


Blue, Like The Sky

by AmableAngel



Series: Hetalia Soulmate Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Amnesia, M/M, it's like the thing where you can see colors when you meet your soulmate, pruhun if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmableAngel/pseuds/AmableAngel
Summary: Feliciano has seen colors. Will he see them again?





	Blue, Like The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, if you see your soulmate, the world bursts into color. When your soulmate dies, everything goes back to black and white. 
> 
> *insert disclaimer stuff*

Gray, black, and white. That was all that the world was for eight year old Feliciano. According to his grandfather, when Feliciano was born, his eyes were deep brown, like chocolate. His hair was a light, sandy color. Of course, his nonno couldn’t see any colors anymore, since Grandma Calista had died when Feliciano was four. But all the boy could see in his eyes was a muted gray. Looking into the mirror, his thin locks were a slightly darker black. 

Lovino claimed he would never see colors. And some days, it seemed like that. When the boy was moping and grumping about, who would want him? At least that was what Lovino thought. Feliciano knew that there was a better side, a happier side to his older brother.

But Feliciano didn’t know whether or not he would see colors. Nonno then told him that everyone did. Every person in the world has a soulmate, he explained, sitting Feliciano down on his lap. The little boy looked up at the stars in wonder as his grandfather explained that some day, someone would make Feliciano see the bright blue sky, the golden sun, and the crimson poppies.

Feliciano fell in love with the idea of being in love.

~

“Order for spaghetti and meatballs, no parmesan cheese! Table two!” the cook called out, sliding a hot plate of steaming pasta through the slot, towards Feliciano. He set it down on a tray and walked out into the eating space. Given that is was dinnertime, the rush in the restaurant was huge. Feliciano squinted, spotting table two. A head of wavy light grey hair was visible from his viewpoint.  _ Francis. _ A regular who came every Thursday.

Sighing, he made his way towards the table, brushing up against people milling about the room. The bowl of pasta balanced precariously on the tray, the sauce glinting in the light. 

Feliciano had seen color for enough time to know that pasta sauce was red, a fiery color. But it had been so long since then, that he couldn't remember what any color looked like. If he tried to recall it in his brain, all that came up was a gray. A dull, boring gray. 

~

_ Feliciano skipped down the path happily, holding Lovino’s hand. The older boy grumbled under his breath but kept a firm grip on his younger brother's hand. Across the street, a truck stood in front of the driveway of their neighbor’s house. Feliciano frowned in confusion and pointed.  _

_ “Fratello? Why is there a truck in Mr. Vash’s house?” _

_ “There’s no truck  _ inside,  _ there’s one in the driveway. And Mr. Vash is moving. Back to Switzerland, I think.” _

_ “Oh. So who’s our new neighbor?” _

_ “Some people from Germany. That’s what Nonno said. They’re moving in today.” _

_ “Oh,” he repeated. A little boy came out the front door, his face obscured by a large hat on his head. He piqued Feliciano’s attention and he craned his neck, trying to get a view of the boy.  _

_ The two Vargases drew closer to their neighbor’s home. The new boy also got closer to the end of the driveway, so that he and Feliciano would definitely intersect paths.  _

_ The boy reached the end of his driveway, his face still hidden. He stopped to let Feliciano and his brother pass by, but Feliciano’s curiosity got the better of him. The small Italian boy lifted the hat off his new neighbor’s face, just to get a peek at it. Lovino immediately scolded his brother, saying that you don’t just go around taking hats off people’s heads. But Feliciano wasn’t listening.  _

_ The world had stopped and exploded into color.  _

_ Blue eyes. Clear, vibrant azure eyes. It was the first thing he saw, the first piece of the colored life that was destined for him.  _

_ The boy’s face was slightly chubby and freckled. He was staring in wonderment at Feliciano’s face, frozen in shock. In the background, Lovino was tugging on Feliciano’s hand, trying to pull him away, but his voice was muted. All the eight year old could see was his soulmate’s face.  _

_ And those beautiful irises.  _

~

Feliciano was walking towards the table, tray in hand, when he spied two figures enter the restaurant. Francis waved them over and the two settled down at the table.  _ Great, I have to take more orders now.  _ He readjusted his hand and made his way to the edge of the table. The two unknown people had their heads bent down, the taller one bent down on the floor.  _ Looking for his phone? Probably.  _ A head of white hair popped up and cast his gaze on Feliciano, squinting. An unidentifiable emotion passed over his face and Feliciano frowned.

“Do I know you?” he asked, taking the plate off the tray but not setting it down. Francis smiled. 

“Ah, allow me to introduce you!” he said. “This is Feliciano, a very good cook and waiter at this restaurant. This--” The other figure pulled his head up, his phone in his hand. He looked Feliciano right in the eyes and jolted. 

His blood ran cold and the plate dropped to the ground with a huge crash. Sauce was splattered all over the floor, but he didn’t care.  _ White hair… Gilbert? And… ?  _

Blue eyes. As clear as the sky. Blonde, sunny hair, just as Feliciano remembered all those years ago. 

Color had returned to his life. 

His hands clapped over his mouth. The entire restaurant was silent, looking at the spectacle in front of them. 

Then those horrible words.

“Do I know you?” Ludwig asked, frowning and tilting his head to one side. Gilbert’s eyes were wide with a mix of horror and recognition. Francis looked on in bewilderment. 

“It’s you. You-you left me.” Feliciano’s voice quivered as he pointed an accusing finger at him. “You left me! You know how long I waited for you?! They told me you were dead!! But I didn't believe that bullshit! I told my family that he’ll come back. I told them that I wouldn’t move on! My life was ruined. And here you are!”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You’re my soulmate, aren’t you? I can see color now, but you’re talking as if-- as if we had met before…” Ludwig trailed off, shaking his head in confusion. Feliciano dropped his hands and stared at the blonde haired man. 

“WHY DON’T YOU REMEMBER?!” he screamed. 

~

_ Feliciano sat at the kitchen table on a stool, a bowl of jellybeans in front of him, swinging his feet back and forth. He picked out an orange one and set it into a separate bowl. Lovino despised the orange ones, but he couldn’t make out which jellybeans were orange flavored, so he passed the task to Feliciano, who could differentiate the colors, now that he could see colors. He had been able to see the world with all it's colors for two years now, ever since Ludwig and his family moved in next door. At first, the boy thought Feliciano was a girl, but that mistake was corrected quickly. _

_ Right now, Ludwig, his brother and father were in Germany to visit some family members.  _

_ He dug into the bowl, trying to locate the next orange jellybean when he froze. Something was wrong. The red was disappearing and the green was fading. Feliciano's arms began to shake. All around him, little things began to lose color. The coffee colored sofa was slowly turning black. Pink flowers Nonno placed on the table in a vase were turning light grey.  _

_ It began to register in his mind what was happening. Feliciano's heart began to pound and he ran back to the kitchen, grabbing the phone and dialing the number Ludwig gave him before he had left. Nausea began to build in the Italian boy’s stomach and he tapped his feet impatiently against the wood floor.  _

_ Voicemail. He pressed redial. Same thing. Feliciano grit his teeth and dug through the drawers.  _ I know I put Gilbert's cell phone number here somewhere!! Where is it?!  _ Sheets of paper flew around the kitchen as he searched for Gilbert's phone number. Feliciano pulled out a thin scrap of paper triumphantly.  _

_ He looked around in alarm. Only a few things retained their color and Feliciano quickly dialed the number, holding the phone to his ear. The ringing seemed to stretch forever, before finally, a click sounded from the other end.  _

_ “Feliciano?” Gilbert’s raspy voice said. He sounded as if he had been crying.  _

_ “Yes, it's me. Is everything okay? The colors are gon--”  _

_ “No..” And with that, another click, and the phone call ended.  _

_ The world was gray again.  _

_ ~ _

“Feliciano? Please open up? I'm really worried. Can you please let me in?” Elizabeta called out from outside the apartment door.

“Go away.”

“Fine, if not to help you, can I please use your laundry machine? Mine's broken again.” 

_ “ _ Liza, please. Just leave me alone.”

“Feli, I'm serious. I need to do my laundry. I have a date tonight.”

Feliciano sighed and lifted himself off the couch reluctantly. Empty cartons of Chinese takeout littered the carpet and he had to walk in his toes in order to not get any random noodles on his socks. He looked through the peephole on the door and let his best friend inside, after seeing that she did, in fact, have a laundry basket in her hand. 

“Jesus, Feli. You look awful.” Elizabeta set the basket down on the floor and pulled the smelly comforter off of Feliciano’s back. “Have you just been sitting like this for the past three days?”

“It works.” He shrugged and plopped back onto the couch. “So who’s the date with?” Feliciano asked, not really wanting to know. 

“I don’t really have a date tonight.” A pause. “You knew that I have nothing in this basket, right?”

A grunt came from the pile on the sofa. “I knew.”

“Okay, what happened? Can you please tell me?” Elizabeta navigated her way through the trash scattered around on the floor and sat down next to Feliciano. “I know it has to do with your soulmate, but isn’t it a good thing?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Liza.” Feliciano’s voice began breaking. “He was gone. Everything turned back to gray. And now here he is!” Elizabeta placed a hand on his back and rubbed it around in circles, whispering comfortingly. Feliciano began crying softly. “I don’t understand. I hate this. I hate the fact that I can see color again. I thought I never would, but he’s back. It’s-it’s l-like reopening a wound you had sown back together.”

“Why don’t you go to talk to him?”

“No. I just c-can’t see his face for a while now. Maybe later,” he hiccuped. 

“Fine, then go talk to a relative of his. Just to see what happened.”

Feliciano sniffled and lifted his head up. “He has an older brother.”

“See, you can go talk to him. I’ll come with you, if you want.” Elizabeta patted Feliciano’s head and smiled at him. The Italian returned the grin, albeit watery. “Do you have his number?”

“No, but I know he’s friends with Francis.” Feliciano sat up straighter. 

“Okay, go take a shower and I’ll call Francis.” He nodded and got up off the couch, heading for his bedroom. Elizabeta sighed and fished her phone out of her jacket pocket. She scrolled through her contacts and pressed on “Froggiest Frog,” holding the phone to her ear. 

“Hey, Liza. What’s up?”

“Yeah, it’s about Feli. Could you give me the number of his soulmate’s brother? Feli wants to go talk to him.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll text it to you. Um, on an unrelated note, I have another possible person for you. His name is Vlad and--”

“Listen. Not now.”

“Fine. Bye.”

“Okay, bye.” Elizabeta ended the call and opened up her texts to Francis. A new message was there; the soulmate’s older brother’s number.

Gilbert Beilschmidt.  _ Add new contact?  _ her phone asked. She accepted and pressed the call button. “Hello, is this Gilbert?”

“Ja-- Er, sorry. Yes, this is Gilbert. May I know who’s speaking?”

“My name is Elizabeta, a friend of Feliciano’s. He wants to talk to you about this whole situation.”

“Okay, can we meet at the coffee house on Rutliff in an hour?”

“There’s two coffee houses on Rutliff.”

“No, there aren’t. I live on Rutliff.”

“Listen, I’ve lived in this city my entire life. I’m telling you, I know that there are two coffee houses on Rutliff.”

“And I’m telling you, there’s only one coffee house on Rutliff!”

“Oh my God.” Elizabeta rolled her eyes, scowling. “Fine. We’ll meet at Rotter’s.” Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and stuffed the phone back into her pocket.  _ Asshole.  _

She stood up and made her way to the kitchen, pressing a button on the voicemail machine. Absentmindedly listening, she shuffled through the stack of mail on the table. 

“Hey, Feliciano. Are you calling in sick today? Please call me back when you get this.”

“Oi, fratello. Why aren’t you picking up your phone? Call me back, okay?”

“Feliciano. You haven’t been coming into work for the past two days. What’s going on?”

Then her own voice. “Feli, you’re okay, aren’t you? Please pick up your phone. I’m really concerned.”

~

Feliciano shuffled down the stairs of his apartment complex, Elizabeta in tow. He was wearing a fancier striped dress shirt and he had attempted to gel his hair down, failing miserably. Not only was his hair not built for gelling, that one curl wouldn’t stay down for all the gel in the world. The two walked in silence until they reached the coffee shop Elizabeta had determined for the meeting. They would be meeting Gilbert there. 

“Ready?” she asked, hand grasped on the handle of the door. Feliciano nodded wordlessly. The pair walked into the coffee house. Elizabeta spotted a head of platinum blonde facing away from them, bent down slightly.  _ So this is the asshole,  _ she thought. They strolled over to the table and sat down at the table. 

Gilbert looked up from his phone and straight at Elizabeta. His eyes went wide for a split second, but it was so rapid that Feliciano couldn’t have noticed. Elizabeta had a similar reaction, but covered it up quickly. He cleared his throat and slipped his phone into his pocket. 

“I believe I owe you an explanation,” Gilbert started. 

“Yes, you do.” Feliciano’s voice was low. 

Gilbert gulped and took a deep breath. “When we were Germany, all those years ago, Lud got into a horrible accident and lost all of his memories. He couldn’t remember who you were, and as a result couldn’t see color anymore. He couldn’t even remember who I was. And slowly, we had to shape him into a different person. He became a completely different person, and I guess that’s why you stopped seeing color. He technically wasn't your soulmate because he was a different person. We also just stayed in Germany after the incident.”

“Did you even tell him about me?”

“…”

“Tell me.”

“No. We didn’t. We thought it would be a little too traumatic for him. He was ten. Like, ‘Hey, Luddy. I know you don’t know this person at all, but he’s your soulmate! You’ve spent the past two years together, but you don’t know him at all!’ So we just fed him childhood memories that didn’t include you.”

“What, so you just wanted him to grow up without a soulmate?!” Feliciano shot back.

“If it would prevent him from getting hurt, then yes!” Gilbert’s tone began to escalate angrily. 

“Protect him from what? Falling in love? Being happy? Even if he never saw me again, he would still know that he had been in love before!” 

Gilbert’s voice suddenly dropped. “You’re right,” he muttered, looking down at the wood table, tracing the grain over and over again. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of us to do that. I should’ve told him everything, even if Vati didn’t approve.”

A ringing came from Gilbert’s pocket. He frowned and fished out the phone. 

“Hey, Lud. Yeah, I’m out right now. I’ll be back soon. No, I’m not in a coffee shop.” A pause. “You’re  _ what _ ?!” Gilbert whirled around to face the front of the shop. 

Standing outside the windows was Ludwig. 

The blonde waved and put his cell phone back into his pocket. Elizabeta shot a glance at Feliciano, who was frozen, staring at Ludwig. He began taking deep breaths as Ludwig entered the cafe and sat down next to his brother. Gilbert stared in confusion at his younger brother. He whispered something under his breath that no one could not catch. 

“You followed me?” he asked incredulously, bitterness seeping into his voice. 

“I know for a fact you don’t go outside the house unless it’s to visit Francis or Antonio. Or for work. It was a little bit sketchy.” Gilbert threw up his hands exasperatedly.

“West--”

“Am I not allowed to care for my brother? I was making sure you weren’t mixing yourself up in any trouble,” Ludwig said evenly. Feliciano’s face was stone still, a change from the joyful Italian he normally was. Of course, for the past fifteen years, he had not been the same. He was staring down the salt shaker on the table with such intensity, it seemed like he was trying to move it with his mind. 

“Fine, fine. Whatever. I’m assuming since you’re here now, you want to talk to Feliciano?”

“If that’s alright with him, then yes.” Ludwig turned to Feliciano, who was still looking down at the table. 

“I can go wi--” Elizabeta started, about to stand up, but Gilbert held up his hand, interrupting. 

“No, they should talk it out alone,” he said authoritatively. Elizabeta glared at Gilbert, who was grinning cheekily. Ludwig held out a hand to Feliciano, who slowly looked up. His eyes and smile were filled with warmth, and Feliciano felt a little bit less queasy. Accepting his hand, the two walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Gilbert and Elizabeta behind.

“So are you seeing the same thing I’m seeing?” he asked.

“The colors? Yes.”

~

“First off, I’d like to apologize. For everything. I’m sorry that I can’t remember our time together, and I’m sorry that I was really awkward at the restaurant. Gilbert told me everything.” Ludwig sighed and stuck his hands into his pocket. 

Feliciano cracked a watery smile. “I’m sorry too. For yelling at you at the restaurant. Lovi-- my brother-- always said I was too quick to act and too emotional. Sorry.” They stopped at a bench and sat down. “So, could we start over?”

Ludwig tilted his head to one side questioningly. “Meaning?”

“Like this!” Feliciano stuck out his hand excitedly, all traces of his sadness wiped away. “Hi! My name is Feliciano Vargas! I’m your soulmate!”

The blonde tentatively put his hand out. “Hello. My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt. It’s nice to meet you, Feliciano.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's going to be a second part to this, with PruHun.
> 
> (Maybe more, idk)


End file.
